


Late

by ElevatorAction13



Category: Hellsing
Genre: AAxEM, M/M, gay priests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElevatorAction13/pseuds/ElevatorAction13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderson turns up late to a night out on the town with Enrico, yet the reason why more than makes up for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late

Late

 

“Damn it Alexander.”

Enrico’s jaw tensed around his cigarette as he blew out strained stream of smoke from between his gritted teeth. He hated being stuck in the rain. The dreary weather always chilled him, despite his warm, long coat and burning nicotine-stick clasped in his pursed lips.

“Late, and on all days.”

Shuffling his umbrella, he raised his arm and pulled back the coat-sleeve to check his watch for the tenth time in the last five minutes. The longer Anderson was late, the more he’d obsessive compulsively look at the ticking device, glaring at it as if he could summon Anderson to him via wristwatch.

If only he had Anderson’s bible, that’d do the trick.

He put down his arm and stuck his hand deep into a coat pocket, mentally swearing at himself for checking it so often, and promising that he wouldn’t do it again. Which is something he did every other time as well.

A sudden crack of thunder stampeded across the sky like a herd of cattle and jolted Enrico out of his pit of impatience with a violent start. Enrico’s eye twitched and his hands clawed the handle of his umbrella. Yes, this was not a good day for Anderson to be late. It was already a terribly difficult thing to arrange times for secret intimate outings, having to meet up at odd places to go to places far away from the Vatican. All of it hard planning and a cause for elevated stress and nerve. So Enrico did not appreciate the fact that he was stuck out in who-knows-where, cold and in the rain, for a man who was now twenty-five, no-

Enrico checked his watch again.

Twenty-six, minutes late.

Only four minutes until he had officially been standing around for thirty minutes, and still Anderson was nowhere in sight.

With a heavy sigh he dug into his coat pocket and took out his phone. At least he had the number to a decent taxi service around here…

“Unpleasant weather fer ae date isn’t et luv?”

“AhhhJesus-Anderson!”

Enrico spun around clutching the phone to his heavily thumping chest, eyes wide from Anderson’s surprising appearance. Anderson was perched atop the run-down stonewall behind Enrico, looking down at him with a big cocky smile on his face. His legs were spread out so one balanced on the bottom of the huge chunk that was missing from the wall, and the other leg braced his body up against the higher part of the wall. One arm hung low, hiding his hand behind the mossy cobble while the other pressed at the wall as Anderson loomed over his partner.

“Where? Where the hell did you come from?” Enrico then remembered the time, and his surprise changed into anger.

He stormed up to Anderson, absolutely seething.

“And why are you so damn late? Do you know how long I’ve been out here? Standing around like a fool in the rain waiting for his stupid ox of man to show up for half of an hour?”

“Ah got distracted by ae “detour”, if ye want tae call et tha’.” Anderson chuckled. It was a deep, almost dark sounding laugh that took Enrico off-guard for a moment.

“Detour? What are you talking about? You didn’t drive-“

It must have been the anger before, or the weather obscuring the form of the paladin, or some odd reason because it was only now that Enrico noticed the blood generously painted all over the face and body of the heavily built fighter, and the ragged, multiple large tears that ruined Anderson’s suit.

“Anderson. What did you do?” Enrico frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I hope it’s worth all the damage you’ve done to that suit I got you.”

“Ach, ye’ll joos’ drag meh off tae git another wan, dinnae act loch et’s ae big loss. Et was ae bit tight anyways.”

He pushed off the broken side of wall to stand only on his two, stretched out legs, and with a curt grunt, ripped the collar of his shirt down to the start of his chest with a single tug. Other arm still hanging down, he rocked his necked back and forth to loosen his muscles and sighed.

“Mooch better. How about next time ye take meh shopping ye tell th’ tailor th’ make et ae little looser aroond th’ neck aye?”

“Ah, ah.”

Enrico’s eye had begun to twitch the second the fabric tore with that sickening rip. His knuckles went white as he squeezed the handle of his umbrella, and his tone went deathly quiet.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Anderson just threw back his head and laughed. “Look at ye, gittin’ all upset over some trite thing ye can joos’ buy again. Ah shuid beh askin’ ye whit ye think yer doing, giving meh sooch restricting garbs. Dae ye ken how mooch trouble et gave meh during meh trip ‘ere? Ah’m ae soldier o’ God, not ae dress-oop doll. Yer not lookin’ tae guid yerself, all wet ahn cold-“

Anderson was cut off by a swift, hard, whack to the face with a folded up umbrella. The blow was so strong that it had forced his head to twist to the side. The pointed metal tip had slashed his cheek and was rapidly healing, but the blood took a bit longer to begin washing away in the miserable drizzle. It had been a sharp, harsh slice.

The umbrella was twirled back to fit properly back n Enrico’s hand and opened with a big whoosh of air, once again guarding Enrico from the rain. Sharp eyes focused and unmoving, he glared at Anderson and motioned to the spot right in front of his feet.

“Down. Now.”

Anderson clutched his already healing face and let out a sharp from between his grinning teeth.

“Tha’ smarts lad.”

“It’s Sir.” Enrico curtly corrected. “Now, must I discipline you again?”

The giant man merely chuckled, and hopped down from the wall to land right to the side of a rather large puddle, making Enrico flinch. But he missed, so Enrico could relax.

When he looked back at Anderson however, he noticed that the paladin was still hiding one of his hands behind his back.

Enrico sneered. “First you arrive late, then insult me, and now you conceal things from me. What are you hiding? Show me, right now.”

“Yer actin’ loch et’s ae bad thing Ah’m hiding’. Yer mood makin’ ye assume th’ worst?”

Enrico had his umbrella folded and raised to strike in a blink of an eye, but Anderson just smiled wider.

“Yer going tae luv et, Sir.”

The last word rumbled off of Anderson’s tongue as he slowly kneeled onto the wet, cracked sidewalk, and at last brought forth what was held in his hand.

Enrico’s breath caught in the back of his throat and his eyes widened with shock, then excitement. The blood pounded throughout his veins, making his body hot with a new fervor against the cold rain, and his whole face lit up with interest, and joy.

“Wonderful.” Enrico crooned as he reached for the offered gift. “Absolutely marvelous.”

The umbrella clattered against the stones, forgotten in midst of this new development, and Enrico reached down to wrap his fingers, bound within tight-fitting fine leather, around the freshly severed, still dripping head.

“What a fine trophy you’ve brought me Sword Dancer.”

A macabre smile twisted his lips as he lifted the head up to the sky to inspect it in what little light made it through the thick clouds. Running a thumb over the lips, he propped the jaw open just a tad to admire the deadly, razor fangs that lined the vampire’s mouth. Its eyes were still open, and reflected the frozen image of a painful, terrifying death.

“Your, “detour”?” Enrico gave a small laugh and continued to look over the gruesome prize.

“Found th’ beast tryin’ tae git soom extra huntin’ time en this weather. Nae bayonets on meh.”

Anderson tilted his head up to lay eyes on his Superior’s utterly pleased state, and uncurled his hands in front of him so they were in plain sight, blood-soaked and rough.

“Sae Ah tore et aepart wit meh bare hands.”

Upon hearing those gruff words of a gruesome victory a strong heat spread throughout the Bishop’s body, and he made a small, whispering moan.

“You’re absolutely exquisite Alexander.”

A soft, caressing hand cusped the side of Anderson’s bloody face, and the warrior let out a heavy breath and hum of warm bliss. His Superior was happy, and that meant he was happy. In fact, by the way Enrico was breathing and the growing flush on his cheeks, Anderson he could say that his Superior was a little more than happy.

“Fergive meh lateness meh Bishop, boot Ah cuid not forget meh duty ahn allow tha’ foul creature tae roam ae second longer. Tha’.”

He stroked the sides of Enrico’s hands, and flashed a knowing smile. “Tha’, ahn Ah ken Ah freshly killed trophy wuid please ye moor than any bouquet wuid.”

“While I do enjoy the more benign gifts, I treasure your trophies and acts of might. Rise, Saint Guillotine, for you have done well, and deserve a reward.”

Anderson slowly rose and stood in front of his Bishop and didn’t even try to hide the eager hunger that glowed like smoldering coals in his eyes.

Holding the matted bloody mess that was now the late vampire’s hair by one hand, Enrico lifted his free hand to pet his loyal warrior’s scarred cheek.

“Shame that I cannot touch you with my bare fingers. I’d rather not drop your gift onto the ground after all.” Enrico sighed in mock disappointment while the lowered, blonde-lashed eyelids and coquettish upturn of his lips seemed to signal something else.

As if acting on cue Anderson brought his lips down to kiss that precious softly leathered hand, running them over the lithe features until he came to the tip of Enrico’s ring finger and bit down with just enough pressure to catch the glove, not this flesh.

In a long, drawn out low growl, Anderson tugged the glove off until the entirety of Enrico’s hand was exposed.

“Caro mio.” Happy laughter escaped Enrico as he moved forward to cusp Anderson’s face and kisses the rain-dotted lips of his beautiful, rugged Paladin. “You have made up for your lateness and more.” Enrico kissed him again, leading the man’s head down so he didn’t have to stand on his toes. “Let us forget the play, I have a much better plan in mind.”

“Ahn whit’s tha’ Sir?”

A knowing glint in his eye, Anderson stroked the soft face of his partner as his vision began to wander, up and down what he could see of Enrico’s form.

“No point in playing ignorant, is this not a common trend for us? Do we not celebrate our victories whenever we can grab the chance?”

“Aye weh dae.” Anderson’s voice was husky, and his hands feely. He gave Enrico’s tempting bottom a tight squeeze and tried to nibble his ear. Frenzied moaning and breathless names were what he wanted right now, and he was eager to get it.

“There is a hotel nearby, a good one. I’ve decided that we shall stay there for the night. The problem.” Enrico held the head up to Anderson. “Is where we should hide this. The common folk do not take severed heads of the un-godly very well.”

“Give et tae meh.” Anderson in his rush almost ripped his outer jacket in two trying to get if off, and had the head wrapped up in it in a flash. “Weh can gae now. Et’s not far es et?”

“Patience Alexander. Acting like a child on a long road-trip isn’t very conducive to the mood.”

“Fine. Joos’ lead th’ way, ahn Ah’ll follow ye anywhere.”

The face of the hotel clerk when the two men in wet suits (one of them ripped), and carrying what looked like an equaling wet mystery bundle, was a face that could not be recreated unless the same situation happened again. The rooms were rented though, despite the clerk’s shaky hand and ashen complexion, and the two men were able to retreat into their small private space, so they could “celebrate”, in privacy.

And privacy was essential.


End file.
